Model Homes

About This Title

Urbane, ribald, melancholic and wry, Wayne Koestenbaum puts a memorable spin on the status quo notion of domestic arrangements. The thirteen ottava rima cantos in Model Homes present a neo-Freudian tale of the goings-on in the poet's present home and various events from childhood. "Wayne Koestenbaum has written a magnificent poem about failing to write the magnificent poem he wishes to write. Here the Byron of Don Juan meets San Jose, Mom, Dad & Steve. Part riff, part romp, Koestenbaum's metrical hijinks - what he calls form's "striptease liberty" - land him firmly in the profound." - Frank Bidart

Third Canto (excerpt)

1.

My mother is a poet. Just like me.
She started first, before I was born, then quit.
I confess I find our sameness slightly creepy,
Though I'm a willing co-author of it -
Jocasta and her son's joint therapy.
Typing these words, I need an amulet.
Ottava rima, be my chastity belt!
Protect my lips from incest's melting gelt!

2.

(It's Chanukah. I'm getting a sore throat.)
I started writing poetry to place
My soul and fate in league with Mom's, demote
Authorities, make my warped odes replace
Her past, redress her wrongs - my words a vote
For her, my hand her deputy...A case
Of overzealous, crocked identification?
I took to heart her every imprecation.